Somehow Saga's hand over his makes him feel small and fractured and reassured, like he's watching someone take bits of an incomplete thing and saying there's a way to put them back together.
He can't think of anything to say that won't have tears interrupt it, so he nods instead.
"Sometimes, we don't," she says gently, because that's hardly an experience unique to people in his situation, "but it's okay that you are. Now, if you don't want me to see it, that's okay too. You can go to the bathroom and sit and wash your face. But it doesn't bother me and I'd rather be there for you."
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He can't think of anything to say that won't have tears interrupt it, so he nods instead.
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"Can I-" and if she isn't given a 'no', he's going to get a good, firm hug and a squeeze to hold him together a little.
"Let's do that then."
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Mumbled into her shirt: "I don't know why I'm crying."
He's so much better at emotions, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's good at them.
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